#i literally don't know why i keep picking at my socks

[irbcallmefynn]

I wish I had socks with wolf paws or something but I know me. I have a habit of picking at my socks literally at random. They'd get destroyed. So step one is figuring out how to break that habit without replacing it with something more destructive.

Maybe I need a fidget toy of some sort. Idk what kind I'd want, ideally something small and quiet. Like a 1x1 rubix cube or something.

[esotericbluntbaby]

srry if this sounds stupid but like.. reader thats super short?? like 5'1

idk thinking abt the fact that he could just manhandle you is making me so ♡♡ i keep thinking abt that trend where he could pick you up and place you on his shoulders omg.. or maybe he makes u sit on his lap and stuff while he edits

also feel like he's super protective u (subconsiously he doesnt even realize it) always putting a hand around u type of thing

hamzah x short!reader headcannons (sfw and nsfw)

mentions: reader gets insecure about their weight sometimes, manhandling, sexual activities, size kink

sfw!

being 5'10, hamzah was used to being taller than most people he knew. however, it hits way different when it comes to you. he enjoys having to look down at you whenever you're standing next to him; it gives him a slight ego boost about how tall he is.

though, being with someone short also has its downsides; sometimes hugging him when he's carrying all his film equipment is difficult. when side hugging him, he has to crouch down awkwardly or you have to go on the very tips of your toes in order to be able to.

you actually hate having to ask him for help on reaching things from high parts of your apartment; you've been independent for ages, so you feel like you should be able to simply grab whatever you need from the top. hamzah, however, hates it when you grab a chair to stand on. he thinks you'll somehow fall over and break something

hamzah walks in the room with a puzzled expression on his face, "hey baby? have you seen my- what are you doing?"

you looked down at him, standing on the counter, "i'm baking and i needed my measuring cups."

he grabs you by the waist and lifts you down with his hands, then reaching to the top of the cabinet with ease and grabbing the measuring cups you needed, "you could've just asked me."

whenever you get tired of walking around in heels, or your feet simply feel like they're bound to be raw instead of with skin, he carries you with ease. hamzah's a man who hates seeing his woman struggle with anything, yet he also didn't want to walk around toronto with only socks on the cold, dirty pavement. so, instead, he lifts you and carries you either bridal style or on his back.

he really has to lean down in order for you two to be able to kiss. whether it's a kiss on the cheek or a kiss on the lips, it's either he's bending down or you're on your toes. when you're in a situation where he can't bend over or he simply doesn't want to, forehead kisses are the next best option.

sometimes, he'll simply walk to wherever you are, grab you by the waist and hoist you onto his shoulder, and then take you to the couch to watch a movie with him. you don't really know how it started, but ever since he did it for the first time and you didn't seem to mind, he now does it probably once a week.

"hamzah, y'know you could've just asked me to come to the living room, right?"

"why would i do that?"

stealing his clothes is funny to him; it's been a running joke where, no matter how big the clothes you stole are, you'll still deny that it's his. he fakes being upset at it, but the blush he has on his cheeks tell a different story. one time, the roles reversed and he stole a tank top and basketball shorts from you.

"hamzah, what the hell are you wearing..?"

"just a little something from my closet ^-^"

if you ever get insecure about your weight, he makes it KNOWN that you weigh literally nothing to him. either by benchpressing your body or squatting it, he makes you laugh with all the movement he's making you go through. afterwards, he definitely reassures you that you're genuinely the most beautiful person he's ever seen; it's safe to say that you don't get insecure about your weight that often with him in your life.

nsfw!

hamzah's arms are absolutely ripped. therefore, he's able to switch your position whenever it's needed. cramping? he'll manhandle you and switch the position. tired? he'll manhandle you and switch the position. about to finish? he'll manhandle you and switch the position so that you feel as pleasured as possible when you release.

whenever he eats you out, he's able to overstimulate you as much as he can. his arms are almost always spreading your thighs apart, his promise ring making indents in your skin, even if your thighs are trying to squeeze his head off. occasionally, he lets you squeeze his head; contrary to popular belief, i think hamzah's a thigh and ass guy. being squeezed by how soft your thighs are turns him on even more.

the options for positions are ENDLESS. he's able to lift you and carry you for as long as both of you can last.

size kink. watching him rip you apart turns him on to the point where sometimes, he doesn't last as long as usual from the mere sight of your pornographic moans and having him enter and exit. watching you get tore apart also turns you on; he's so big and strong. that's your man, right there. only he's able to make you feel like this (and finish as fast as you do).

he wraps his hand around your wrists to restrain you; with the height difference, his hands are basically double the size of yours. he pins you down quite often, since missionary is probably one of his favorite positions. he likes seeing how blissful your expression is when he's deep inside of you.

authors note!

sorry i edged u guys the whole day with this LOLL! it's kinda short, but i hope u guys enjoy!

[melodyreads]

Roommates

hamzah x reader

summary: Moving in with Hamzah was supposed to be temporary, a kind gesture from a good friend… but the ease of unspoken understanding turned a short stay into a home. How long can you keep up this mundane routine until someone cracks?

(fluff to angst, reader gets jealous, confusing realationship, happy ending)

a/n: let me know if you guys have any prompts, I would love some inspo <3

———

"Do you want any coffee Hamzah?"

It was 7:42 to be exact. Y/n was in the kitchen wearing a baggy sweater and brandy shorts. Her mismatched socks were the staple to the outfit as she held one of Hamzah's mugs, offering to fill it.

Hamzah laid his head back on the couch dramatically, "Yes, and don't be shy with the amount." Y/n rolled her eyes at this before following through with his instructions. He was sitting in grey sweatpants and a grey hoodie as he edited a video he needed to get done before Martin came over later that day. Y/n walked over to him with his requested mug full of coffee outstretched as she sat on the couch next to him. He caught her peering over his shoulder.

"Yall must save a lot of money not paying for editors."

Hamzah scoffed, "I wish, this is literally a video requesting more editors."

Y/n hummed in response as she sipped her own coffee. She enjoyed these moments in the morning before the both of them went off with their own days. Ever since Y/n had moved in, both of them had easily adapted to one another's presence. She feared it might have been awkward at first being that the situation was not ideal to begin with.

The friends that Y/n had originally left the States with got homesick almost immediately before packing their bags not even a month into their residency.

"Why didn't you go with them?" Hamzah questioned at dinner the night they left.

Y/n sighed out a long breath she had been holding ever since she arrived. "I wasn't to go back... my internship doesn't end until the summer and, I don't know," She muttered as she started picking at her plate "I feel as though I have unfinished business here." She looked up from her plate to meet Hamzah's dark eyes. She cleared her throat, "I'm not too sure what that is though." Hamzah hummed softly as he leaned back in his chair, "Well... I know we haven't known each other long, but if you need somewhere to stay, I have an open room available. You can rent it out for as long as you need."

Y/n didn't know what to say. Well, actually she did, because she moved in the next day with no hesitation whatsoever.

The had just reached 7:50 as she and Hamzah still sat on the couch quietly. As Y/n was reading through a book she just bought and Hamzah was still on his computer, she started to become acutely aware of her knee touching the top of Hamzah's leg. As she sat there rereading the same paragraph for the sixth time, unable to focus, Hamzah finally broke the silence.

"What should we get for dinner tonight?"

---

Y/n heard the door handle shake as the familiar sound of keys rattled.

"Hamzah must be home" Y/n thought to herself.

Y/n had been bed rotting all afternoon, it was Saturday and she had the day off from work. She was planning to ask Hamzah what his plans were for the afternoon, and whether they should stay in or go out tonight.

Hamzah walked in... but as she turned her head to greet him, she was meet with another face as well.

A girl.

Y/n sat up slightly, her back still resting against the headboard as she took in the unfamiliar presence beside Hamzah. The girl was pretty—long dark hair, bright eyes, and a warm smile that seemed perfectly in place as she stepped inside, toeing off her shoes like she’d been here before.

"Hey, Y/n," Hamzah greeted casually, setting his keys on the entryway table. "This is Layla."

Layla.

Y/n blinked, her grip tightening slightly on the blanket draped over her legs.

"Hi," Layla chirped, offering a friendly wave.

"Hey," Y/n replied, keeping her voice neutral as she gave a small nod.

She looked at Hamzah, expecting an explanation, but he was already walking into the kitchen like nothing was out of the ordinary. Layla followed behind, leaving Y/n to process the shift in atmosphere alone.

She hadn’t known Hamzah was seeing anyone.

Not that it should matter.

But the unspoken comfort of their routines, their quiet mornings and shared dinners—it all suddenly felt less… permanent. Less theirs.

Pulling herself out of her thoughts, she pushed the blanket off her lap and stood, making her way toward the kitchen.

Y/n cleared her throat.

"So... how do you two know each other?" she asked, keeping her tone light as she leaned against the counter.

Hamzah, busy pouring himself a glass of water, barely looked up. "We met through a mutual friend. Layla just moved here recently."

"Yeah, I’m still getting settled," Layla added, smiling. "Hamzah’s been showing me around."

Y/n couldn't help but notice how close she was standing next to him and how she leaned into him as she continued to speak.

"God could she be any less obvious"

Y/n nodded slowly, feeling something settle—something she couldn't quite name.

"Oh, cool. Well, welcome."

Layla beamed, and Hamzah finally glanced at Y/n, his expression unreadable.

"Anyway," he said, setting his glass down. "What were you up to today?"

Y/n shrugged. "Nothing much. I was gonna ask if you wanted to do something later, but—" she gestured between him and Layla, "looks like you’ve got plans."

Hamzah hesitated, as if he were about to say something, but Layla spoke first.

"We were just grabbing coffee, actually. Nothing big."

"Right."

Hamzah shifted his weight. "We can still do something later if you want."

Y/n smiled, small and easy. "Nah, it’s cool. Enjoy your coffee."

And with that, she turned on her heel, walking back toward her room before she could let herself overthink why she suddenly felt like an outsider in her own home.

—-

These visits become much more frequent in the following month.

Y/n tried not to think much of it.

"They're just friends." She reminded herself a little too often. But something about the way he would laugh at her jokes like she was the funniest person ever. Or even look at her with a captivating expression when he listened to a story she was telling.

I didn't sit right with you.

When Y/n walked out of her room to see Layla pouring herself a cup of water in Hamzah's mug she swore she started to see red.

"Hey y/n," She looked down at the mug she was using, "Hamzah was begging me to get him some water, he's such a baby." she chuckled.

Before Y/n could even get a word out, Layla disappeared back to the room she came from. Hamzah's office.

The worst of it came on a random Thursday night.

Y/n had been exhausted from work, the kind of exhaustion that made her want to curl up on the couch with a movie, maybe convince Hamzah to order takeout and stay in.

But when she walked in, Layla was already there, sitting comfortably on the couch next to Hamzah, her legs tucked under her as she scrolled through something on his phone.

Y/n froze in the doorway.

Hamzah glanced up and grinned. "Oh, you’re home."

Home.

She didn’t feel like it.

Layla looked up, smiling too. "We were just picking a movie. You wanna join?"

Y/n swallowed. She felt ridiculous—like a child being edged out of their own friend group.

But maybe that’s exactly what was happening.

"No," she said after a beat. "I’m just gonna head to my room."

Hamzah frowned. "You sure?"

Y/n forced a smile. "Yeah. You guys enjoy."

And then she walked away before she could let him see the crack forming in her composure.

Before she could let herself admit that it wasn’t just frustration she was feeling.

It was jealousy.

It was something deeper, something she hadn’t dared to name before.

And now, she was too afraid to.

--

Y/n stared at the half-packed suitcase on her bed, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts she hadn’t yet made sense of.

Y/n shoved another sweater into her suitcase with more force than necessary, her chest tightening with every sharp movement. The apartment, once her safe space, now felt suffocating. Every corner of it held memories—shared laughs over burnt pancakes, lazy Sunday mornings with coffee, the quiet comfort of existing alongside Hamzah without needing to say much at all.

But lately, it felt like she was the only one holding onto those things.

Maybe it was the way Layla seemed to slip so effortlessly into his world.

Or maybe it was how Y/n suddenly felt like she was watching from the outside, no longer a part of whatever they had built.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair before zipping up the suitcase. She hadn’t fully decided where she was going yet—maybe a friend’s place, maybe a short-term rental—but she knew she couldn’t stay here anymore.

She had just grabbed her phone when the knock came.

"Y/n?"

Hamzah’s voice was cautious, like he already knew.

She exhaled before opening the door.

His eyes immediately flickered to the suitcase. His brows furrowed. "What’s this?"

She crossed her arms. "I think it’s time I moved out."

His expression flickered—confusion first, then something else. Something closer to panic.

"What?" he scoffed. "You’re joking."

Y/n shook her head, suddenly finding it hard to hold his gaze. "It’s just... things feel different now, Hamzah. I don’t want to overstay my welcome."

"Overstay your—" He let out a short, incredulous laugh. "Y/n, this isn’t just some arrangement. You live here."

"Yeah, and maybe I shouldn’t anymore," she said softly.

A tense silence settled between them. Hamzah was looking at her like he was searching for the right thing to say.

"Is this about Layla?" he finally asked.

Y/n hesitated, struggling to find the right words. "It’s about a lot of things."

Hamzah ran a hand over his face, exhaling sharply. "You’re really doing this?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I think it’s for the best."

"Don’t do that," he said suddenly causing Y/n to look up at him.

His face was laced with anger and confusion. His fists balled at his side as he started to breath heavily.

He shook his head. "Don’t act like this doesn’t matter."

"To who, Hamzah?" she challenged, dropping her arms in frustration. "Because from where I’m standing, I don’t matter anymore. Layla’s here all the time, and suddenly, I’m just—what? Some extra person taking up space in your home? In your life?"

Hamzah paused as if that statement struck a chord with him.

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration radiating off him. "That’s not true, and you know it."

"Do I?" Y/n’s voice cracked despite herself. "Because I feel like I’ve been watching you replace me right in front of my face."

The words hung between them,

heavy,

suffocating.

Hamzah exhaled sharply, stepping closer. "You really think I could replace you?"

Y/n clenched her jaw, looking away. "Doesn’t feel like I have a place here anymore."

Something in Hamzah’s expression shifted, his anger giving way to something raw, something desperate.

Hamzah took another step forward, his voice quieter now but no less intense.

"I need you here." He said suddenly, as his dark eyes searched yours for some sort of decoding of his confession.

Despite feeling her breath caught in her throat, she forced herself to stand her ground. "Then why does it feel like I’ve been pushed aside?"

Hamzah shook his head. "You don’t get it, do you?" His voice was strained like he was barely holding himself together. "I wasn’t replacing you. I was trying to-" He stopped himself, running a frustrated hand through his hair before looking back at her, eyes burning with something she couldn’t name.

"Trying to what?" she challenged, hating the way her voice wavered.

He let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Trying to ignore it. Trying to pretend like I don’t look for you first when I walk through the door. That I don’t feel off when you’re not here. That I don’t-" His jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides.

Y/n swallowed hard, her heart pounding. It was her turn to take a step towards him. "That you don’t what, Hamzah?"

And then suddenly, she didn’t have to ask.

Because Hamzah was right there, closing the space between them in a heartbeat. His hands came up to cradle her face, rough and warm and desperate

His lips crashed against hers.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t careful.

It was laced with frustration and longing and everything unspoken between them, unraveled all at once.

Y/n gasped into the kiss, her fingers gripping the front of his hoodie, holding onto him like he might slip away. Like she might slip away if she let herself think too much.

Hamzah’s hands slid down to her waist, pulling her closer, like he was afraid she’d disappear if he didn’t. The heat of it, the weight of it, settled deep in Y/n’s chest, breaking down every wall she had built to keep herself from feeling this.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathing hard, foreheads pressed together, hands still clinging onto each other.

"Stay," Hamzah whispered, his voice raw, like a confession.

Y/n’s heart stuttered in her chest.

And for the first time in weeks, she didn’t want to leave.

--

a/n: I hope yall liked this one!!!!! I had been sitting on this idea for a while now, anywayssss pls lmk what u think

muah luv u all <3

[000-pawz]

princess treatment (bnd) ˚ · .

ot6 headcanons , fluff , just bonedo treating u like the princess u r!!! (gn reader)

rest of the members under the cut!

a/n: 2am brainrot takeover hi

sungho ˚ ⋆｡˚

𐙚₊˚ always pulls you into his lap whenever possible!!! loves having you close to him and it gives him an excuse to be a little possessive for a bit...><

𐙚₊˚ gives you random gifts and flowers just because he the smile you give him every time (and the thank you kisses too)!!! you'll wake up to a text from him saying "check your mailbox <3" and boom, there's a brand new necklace in there, all shiny and pretty...(he also asks you to wait to put it on so he can do it himself)

𐙚₊˚ puts on your socks and shoes for you!!! pecks your leg after pulling your socks up because duh.... you are royalty!!! even stops in the middle of the sidewalk to tie your shoes if your laces come undone

𐙚₊˚ cooks for you all the time!!! if you even slightly mention craving something, he's in that kitchen before you can even blink >< he lets you sit on the counter and feeds you little bites to taste test because you're his mini chef!!!

˚ ⋆｡˚ riwoo

𐙚₊˚ if you order something and you don't like it, he'll happily trade his food with you <333 he's content just seeing you eating well

𐙚₊˚ sings you to sleep and strokes your hair...and if you've been struggling with sleeping lately, he'll stay up with you until you fall asleep first so you don't get lonely :<

𐙚₊˚ if he sees something that reminds him of you at the store, trust that he'll be buying it in .3 seconds..."oh y/n would like this", "this is y/n's favorite color", "they were thinking about getting one of these"... like he's always thinking of you

𐙚₊˚ "i don't ever want you to be upset, darling. let's talk about this, okay?" like he's so serious about communication. he values your point of view and input over anything and makes sure you always feel seen and heard!!!

jaehyun ˚ ⋆｡˚

𐙚₊˚ opens every single door for you because why would his s/o ever have to touch a dirty door handle when he's literally right there???

𐙚₊˚ writes you lengthy handwritten notes and poems...sneaks them in your bag when you aren't looking or leaves them on your side table to wake up to <3

𐙚₊˚ surprises you with a bubble bath and tea when you get home from a stressful day...gives you a massage after and encourages you to vent to him so he can hold some of your burdens for you :((

𐙚₊˚ brags about you!!! he loves sharing your achievements with people, showing you off to everyone he knows because he's so proud of you and so so so lucky that you chose him <3

˚ ⋆｡˚ taesan

𐙚₊˚ your personal photographer!!! takes pics of you all the time, whether you ask him to or not (he prides himself in getting the perfect candids for your feed)

𐙚₊˚ notices the super small things... like oh you don't like tomatoes in your food so he picks them all out for you <3 and he knows you always carry chapstick in your bag, so he buys you a bunch so you never run out

𐙚₊˚ buys you so... many... clothes... you're sure more than half of your wardrobe is made up of taesan's contributions... it's not his fault you look good in everything!!! he just has to get everything for you so he can see you in it himself <3 (and mayyyybe show you off to everyone else)

𐙚₊˚ makes you personalized mixtapes and writes love songs about you!!! (for your ears only!!)

leehan ˚ ⋆｡˚

𐙚₊˚ "hey beautiful", "you're so gorgeous", "my pretty baby" and any other sappy compliment he can give you at every waking hour of the day

𐙚₊˚ chivalry is not dead for as long as leehan is around!!! he'll give you his coat if you're cold, walks on the outside of the curb to keep you safe, carries your purse/bag for you, pays for all your dates (even if you insist on splitting the bill), etc.

𐙚₊˚ he does all of the planning for trips and he's so intentional and thoughtful about everything so you never have anything to worry about other than being pretty and enjoying yourself <3

𐙚₊˚ loves giving you his clothes to wear like nothing makes him happier than seeing you in his big hoodies and t-shirts!!! he'll even take his hat off and place it on your head simply because "you look cuter with it" like he's so obsessed

˚ ⋆｡˚ woonhak

𐙚₊˚ #1 hype man!!! even if you aren't feeling too confident, he'll be showering you in compliments and praise because you're always beautiful to him, no matter what

𐙚₊˚ leaves you a bunch of texts throughout the day just to check in on you, sends you silly selfies, makes sure you've eaten, and if he asks you to recap your day to him, you better type 4 whole paragraphs about every single detail or he won't accept it ><

𐙚₊˚ posts you every. single. day. like it's actually crazy... you'll click on his Instagram story and boom, there's a cute picture of you picking flowers at the park with the caption 'they're the prettiest flower in the world' and it's so so so cheesy but it makes your heart flutter every single time

𐙚₊˚ shares your hobbies!!! if you're into crocheting, he will sit there for 3 hours making a blanket with you...or if you like to do makeup, he'll let you practice on him!!!

reblogs are greatly appreciated! thank u...<3

masterlist

[adore-laur]

GET OVER HERE

——

Your phone's default ringtone goes off from its place on the coffee table. Your eyes shoot up from the book you're reading, and you see Harry's name appear, along with your lock screen, which is a candid picture of both of you. After bookmarking the page you were engrossed in, you reach forward and slide your thumb across the screen to answer.

"What's up?" you say, holding the phone to your ear.

"C'mere," Harry murmurs lowly on the other end.

You screw your face up and absentmindedly pick at a loose thread on your pants. "Why?"

"Because I need to discuss something with you."

A scoffed laugh escapes your mouth. He's literally in the room next to you, getting ready for the show, so you ask, "Can't you just text me or tell me right now?"

He's comically silent before uttering an innocent, high-pitched "No?"

You sigh loudly and rise from the comfy couch. As you hang up, you leave the lounge and traverse down the hall. It takes precisely seven steps to reach his private dressing room. The door is wide open, with aromatic cologne and quiet melodies wafting through.

Harry is the first thing you see. He's sitting comfortably in a canvas chair with only a towel around his waist and socks on his feet. The counter in front of him is a mess with hair products, cosmetic brushes, and face creams scattered on the surface. His phone lies on his lap, which means he's been talking to you on speaker.

You clear your throat, which causes him to turn his head and look at you. "What did you need to discuss with me?"

He meekly smiles. "Hi."

"What do you want?" you rephrase impatiently, wanting to return to your romance book. It was just getting steamy!

"Come closer," he says, glancing you up and down.

You notice that he hasn't moved his hands away from his face. They both unnaturally cup his cheeks, and you can't figure out why.

"Why are your hands like that?" you ask with suspicion.

His eyebrows pinch together. "Like what?"

"You're being weird."

"You're being weird."

"We're not doing this," you say, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Tell me what you need, or else I'm walking away. I have a book to finish."

Harry keeps his hands on his face and curls his pinky finger to beckon you closer. "Get over here."

Your heart flutters when he says it in a way that implies you might be in trouble. You rack your brain for anything that could have led him to call you and have you come to his dressing room.

As you slowly walk to him, his eyes don't leave yours. When you stand in front of him, his legs spread in invitation, and he says, "On my lap, baby."

You do as he commands and sit on his left thigh. One of his hands moves from his face to rest on your waist, while the other stays put. He hasn't put his rings on yet, so his fingers feel bizarrely bare on your skin.

"What?" you whisper, your gaze curiously dancing over his face.

Harry leans back in his chair. "Wanna know why I'm covering my cheek?"

"Yeah. I've asked that already."

"Don't get sassy with me."

You swallow nervously. "Did you cut yourself while shaving?" you guess, knowing it's happened a few times before.

"Nope," he replies, tapping his fingers against his cheekbone. "Try again."

You purse your lips and ponder. "Hmm… do you have a zit?"

Harry runs his tongue across his teeth, obviously not amused. "You're on a roll today, aren't you?"

"Just tell me," you breathe out as your shoulders slump.

"You," he says while jerking the leg that you sit on, "gave me a hickey the other day. Right on my jaw, where everyone can see."

You roll your lips in to try to hide your smile. "I'm so sorry."

Harry removes his hand, revealing a brownish-red mark on his jawbone from when the both of you were in a hotel suite in Tacoma. It's a known rule not to leave marks, especially since it's common for him to be photographed in the cities he visits. You take all the blame. You couldn't help it, really—it's nice to be a little greedy sometimes.

"Now I have to tell my makeup artist to cover it up," he mutters, his hand squeezing your ankle. "I have to come up with a stupid excuse and tell them that I punched myself or something."

You laugh. "That's a terrible excuse."

He tilts his head to the side and gives you a blank stare. "Oh, is it? Then would the culprit be so kind as to help me out?"

"Just say, I don't know, that you got hit by something thrown on stage."

Harry blinks three times before saying, "That's actually a really good idea. Okay, you can leave now. Your work here is done. Discussion over."

You lean closer and whisper, "Where's my reward?"

He gives your ass a salacious squeeze. "Meet me in our suite tonight after the show. You better be on your best behavior."

——

[watarfallar]

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate! *holds out this post*

Grian, grinning: I have a knife! Scar: Put it down, Grian. Grian: Make me! sprints away

Grian: What's the most illegal thing you can do with one dollar? Scar: Exchange it for a hundred pennies, put them all in a sock, and then beat someone to death with it.

Scar: Can you be serious for five minutes? Grian: My record is four, but I think I can do it.

Scar: Are you an F5 key? Because that ass is refreshing. Grian: Are you a software update? because not right now.

Grian: Hey, can you do me a favor? Scar: Sorry, I have to go do literally anything other than this. Grian: You don’t even have a legitimate reason? Scar: Oh, no, I do. Grian: Well, what is it? Scar: You see, I simply don’t give a fuck.

Grian, holding a box of Lunchables: Ah, I loved these when I was your age… fine dining. Scar: Fix yourself.

Scar: Okay, help me, please! Grian: Got two words for you. Scar: I bet they won't be helpful. Grian: Your problem. Scar: I was right.

Grian: Can I borrow five dollars? Scar: If you’re only borrowing it, does that mean you’ll pay me back? Grian: Of course. Grian: Not directly, but with my love and affection. Scar: So that’s a no.

Grian: Wow, did you hear that voice crack? Scar: That wasn't a voice crack, that was a whole voice meth.

Scar: …My man Grian just killed a goldfish. Grian: licking their lips Yup. Delicious.

Scar: I just got the best idea I've ever had in my entire life! Later Grian, to Scar: That was the worst idea you’ve ever had in your entire life.

Scar: Grian, you need to calm down. Grian, slamming their fists on the table: BUT HOW CAN IT BE "BIRTHDAY CAKE" FLAVOR IF A BIRTHDAY CAKE CAN BE ANY FLAVOR?!

Scar: I’m proud to say I’ve come over my fear of ghosts! Grian: Eyy, that’s the spirit! Scar: gasps whErE???!!!??

Scar: So you're looking for information on this thing, huh? Well, I feel like it must be from far away. Grian: What makes you say that? Scar: If it's something even I don't know about, then I'm sure nobody else must have a clue. So it's gotta be from some faraway place. Impeccable reasoning, isn't it? Grian: Scar… You don't have a clue about this thing, do you? Scar: screams in anger

Grian: Scar, you look deep in thought. What’s wrong? Scar: Did you know you can look at any object and know what it’s like to lick it? Even if you’ve never touched it before? Grian: I’m never asking you anything ever again.

Grian, looking at their reflection: Now, that's rubbish. Who's that supposed to be? Scar: Well, that's you. Grian: Me?! Is that what I look like? Scar: You don't know? Grian: Busy day.

Grian: Good morning! Scar: Is it? Is it really?

Grian: Urrrgh…I’ve never felt so sick in my entire life… Scar: Ouch. Shit sucks, man. Grian: I feel like I’m dying… Whyyyy… Scar, under their breath: Because I want to go back to some peace and quiet in this house. Grian:,/b> …DID YOU FUCKING POISON ME-

Scar: Pick a card, any card. Grian: Fine. Scar: Wait, that's my credit card! Grian: You said any card.

Scar: I’m going to get so much done today. Grian: I’ll hold you to that. 8 hours later Grian: So how much did you get done? Scar: One thing. Grian: Well, that’s one more than usual.

Scar: I wouldn’t put it in those words exactly. Grian: Why not? Scar: Because I don't know what they mean.

Scar: When did you become a hero? Grian: Um… the moment I saved you from getting killed. Scar: You’re the last person on earth I wanted to rescue me. Grian: Well… sucks to be you, don’t it.

Grian: You’re a horrible person! Scar: Maybe. But I’m rich and I’m pretty, so it doesn’t really matter.

Grian: Pulls a glass a water from out of nowhere Scar: Where did you get that? Grian: My pocket. Scar: How do you keep a glass of water in your pocket? Grian: Skills.

Scar with a gun to Grian's head: What happens if I pull this trigger? Heaven? Grian: Bold of you to assume I'll go to Heaven.

Scar: That sounds super! Doesn’t that sound super, Grian? Grian: No. Scar: I think I speak for Grian when I say it sounds really super.

Scar: Are pigeons drones? Grian: What? No, I'm trying to sleep. Scar: Think about it. How come you've never seen a baby pigeon? And why do you never actually see a pigeon nest? Because they're DRONES! Grian: Crying Please let me sleep…

[ipostwhatiwant1202]

What They Text You: Applies to any...cause they're all a bunch of dorky teens and i dont care what anyone says.

Leo:

• look at my new plant

• would you like to have tea tomorrow?

• you look so pretty 😍 leo you cant see me and? i bet you do

• am i really an old man???? 😭😭😭

• be honest, do you think raph can beat me in an arm wrestle? if you dont answer in 5 minutes, i will assume it's yes and i will prove you wrong.

• good morning honey. have a wonderful day today! ❤️

• are you still mad at me...? LEO YOU SET MY MICROWAVE ON FIRE. so is that a yes?

• have you eaten yet? you need to eat...and drink something other than (your favorite drink)

• i got benched because i can't stop throwing up. i'm fine! leo...you threw up blood literally 10 minutes ago. it was only a little 🙄

• i'm in desperate need of a kiss right now.

• check out my new katanas

• remember that i love you 🥰🥰❤️

• for the last time, i wont download tik tok. you know how bad i hyperfixate 😠

• stop playing candy crush and pay attention to me

• keep it up and you won't get the knots worked out of your shoulders.

• mikey just called me a boomer...i feel like i should be offended. you are a boomer. I DONT KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS.

• y/n, i love you, but for the love of god, PLEASE PICK UP YOUR SOCKS.

• *drunk* im in a relationship why do i have your name as my love cause my girl/boyfriend/partner will definitely not like that and i dont know who you are but they will kick your ass and i dont even feel sorry cause you arent love leo...you're drunk. NO IM TAKEN

• call me cause i would like to hear about your day and i miss you

• i love you my love ❤️

Raph:

• come watch me bench im bored

• can you please come get mikey before i hit him?

• wear that giant sweatshirt to our date. ya look adorable in it

• why did you ask donnie to help you with your homework?? um...cause it's about neurons and receptors in the brain. i could've helped with google! 😒

• YOU NEED TO COME KILL THIS COCKROACH RIGHT NOW.

• hey babe. how was your day? ❤️

• have i ever told you how beautiful you are? what did you do. nothing...? i just think you're beautiful. raphael. fine..i broke casey's nose. AGAIN!?!

• i'm so tired...wanna come nap with me?

• facetime me so i can show you this cool trick spike can do

• remember how i said i was going to be more level headed? well donnie's new robot almost broke my arm and it's no more. you lasted 1 day more than the last time.

• *you sent a selfie* yeahhhh that's my baby 😍😍

• eat or im fighting you.

• jokes on you ive always been completely unhinged and it's bold of you to think i cant be worse.

• im sick. can you bring me some soup? 😣

• i miss you like a lot and i hate when you're gone

• i love you a whole lot 😘

• im just gonna start carrying you everywhere if you dont stop tripping over NOTHING. im just gonna trip harder. Y/N NO.

• mikey said we're his parents just an fyi. he's always been my son

• i made waffles. you better come eat some

• damn babe you're fine 🤤

Donnie:

• no i wont do your homework for you

• tell shelldon to stop talking back to me before i ground him for eternity

• im in a house of IDIOTS. technically it's a lair. not now y/n.

• you look like a pile of swans in that sweater 🥰

• i can't sleep. wanna play online scrabble?

• sweetie you need to eat more than a bag of gummy worms and a bag of doritos

• you need to come sit with me while i work because i need an extra set of eyes. you just miss me 😏 don't start.

• don't call a plumber! i know how to fix the sink. i got this 😎 donnie the pipe exploded the last time you "had" this.

• *you sent a selfie* you look nice

• im gonna blow up. a person, a thing, a place, all of the above? yes.

• you need to drink straight broth, it'll help soothe your stomach ache

• im dying. you have a cold.

• i love you but please stop trying to assemble ikea furniture on your own.

• good luck on your exams/work project! 😘

• TELL RAPH TO STOP PICKING ME UP TO MOVE ME.

• leo just called me an asparagus. i didn't know how to respond so his phone will self destuct in 5 minutes. DONNIE.

• you're so pretty 🥺

• i made you something and you have to come get it right now. im literally about to have my wisdom teeth out. reschedule it

• listen to the playlist i made you or else im disabling your pirated tv show service

• thanks for listening to me 💜

Mikey:

• babe come snuggle with me

• i made you brownies so come eat them with me while we watch crognard

• i haven't seen you in so long 😭 you saw me this morning. BUT THAT WAS HOURS AGO

• angelcakessssss i love you

• look at this cat video i found

• FACETIME ME THERES A PUPPY

• are you awake? mikey it's 3 am. good, so would you still love me if i was a worm? go to sleep.

• i bet you look like a cuddly bear today 🥰

• im so hungry. can you bring me ice cream?

• raph wont stop being mean to me. can you beat him up? cause a (your height) tall human can beat a 6ft turtle's ass 😑 i believe in you.

• im coming over with my new call of duty game and we're having a game a thon!

• i found a cat. mikey no. his name is gerald. MIKEY WE ALREADY HAVE 10 OF THEM. HALF ARE NAMED GERALD.

• i made you a mixtape i cant wait for you to hear it

• how mad would you be if i crashed the shell razor in a derby and broke my arm? very. then i did not do that.

• im sick. come help me feel better 😭

• call me cause april just told me something about casey that's wild

• i found this cool rock that i think you'll like

• it's so cool i can date you. you're for real the coolest. you broke my coffee table again didn't you? no...maybe.

• im bringing you lunch cause my baby needs to eat!

• this song reminds me of you 💕

[anon-sect]

Picture source: Internet

story requested by @axeegliter

Ever since Charlie Puth got his big break on The Ellen DeGeneres Show back in 2011, Jace, Pete and Andy became huge fans of the singer. They all loved his music. All three roommates could be heard by their neighbors playing his songs very loud through the walls. The one thing they all have wanted to do was to meet the guy in person. After following is singing and songwriting career, they decided to make it happen one day.

One opportunity finally presented itself for all three of them to me the famous singer in person. Andy had heard that Charlie was attending a friend's party. Since it was a private party, there was no way for them to get in, but Pete had an idea that just might work. They would sneak in as servers for the party. Once they were inside, they would ditch the outfits and blend in with the rest of the attendees of the party. It was carefully throughout plan. At some point during the party, they would get to chat with the singer and maybe take a picture with him.

On the day of the private party, everything went initially according to plan. All three were in their server outfits and blended in with the rest of the hired servers. When the head guy asked about them, they told him they were extras that were sent to him to help out. Seeing so many at the party, the head guy appreciated whoever sent them. He had liked the extra help.

When the time was right, Pete, Jace and Andy went to quick change into something else. The plan was to meet the singer, take a quick photo and leave before anyone suspected anything.

Everything almost went according to plan. Before they could get close enough to speak to Charlie, the head guy had two other servers round them up. He had verified that they weren't apart of his crew and was about to escort them off the premises. It was at that moment that Charlie heard the commotion and came over to see what was going on.

Pete, Andy and Jace explained why they were there. The head guy was highly upset that they tried to crash a private party, but Charlie calmed him down. He told him there was solution to help all involved. He had the head guy keep them at that location till he came back. Charlie returned holding an old looking cell phone device.

Charlie pointed the camera at Andy and hit the flash button. Andy vanished to be replaced with a Nike sock. Pete and Jace were shocked. They began to plead to let them go after seeing Andy turned into a literal sock. "You see guys, this is how I deal with crazy fans that don't know boundaries. I grant them their wishes while giving me something useful at the same time. I have shirts, pants, shoes and socks that were former fans. Now, they get to be with me forever and I get durable clothing and footwear items. It's a win-win in my opinion." Charlie spoke as the hit the flash button at Pete. Jace saw that Pete was now just a sock. Jace wondered if it was permanent. Charlie just laughed as he flashed him, reducing him to a pair of underwear on the floor. He picked up the pair of socks and underwear. The material felt good in his hands. He could only imagine how his new socks would fee on feet. Yet, he remembered he has several pairs of human-transformed socks in his sock drawer. This pair will be just like the others he already collected since becoming famous. HIs fans make excellent clothing and footwear, while fulfilling their dreams.

Charlie went to the bathroom to change out into his new pair of underwear and socks. It was no time like the present to get these fans use to their new existence as objects he now owns.

Andy didn't expect the singer to literally turn him into an article of clothing, let alone a literal sock. He felt Charlie's foot enter his hollowed-out body and fit snuggly on his foot. He could taste the saltiness of the singer's foot and smell a slight odor coming from it. A few wiggling of the toes showed him who was now in charge. He mentally pleaded for Charlie to let him go, but have no means to vocalize his plea, there was no way to call out for any kind of help. Bearing the full weight on his now sock body had every nerve ending on fire. Somehow, he retained his senses, just with greater intensity. It was torture being worn on foot.

Pete was not fond of feet much, not unless it was really clean and nice smelling feet. Even then he bearly tolerated being close to feet. This new existence was a complete nightmare. He was literally being worn on feet. He was disgusted at tasting the singer's feet without any choice or free will. The odor wasn't bad yet, but still smelling it was bad enough. Being crushed under Charlie's feet was the most intense pain he had ever felt. The fact that being walked on made the intensity almost hundred times worse. Fresh pain with each step the guy took.

Jace was wishing for death the moment he was securely fit around the singer's waist. He knew exactly what he had been turned into the moment he saw Charlie's dick directly in his face. Since his face was facing inward in his new form. this would be his only view for the rest of his life. Hearing that they would never see his humanity ever again, made him want to cry. He had a life, a really good life. Being stuck as another man's underwear was no life at all. He couldn't move to show his frustration about being clothing and he couldn't speak to call out for help. He and his friends were completely at Charlie's mercy.

Charlie put his old sock and underwear back in his car and went back to join his friend's party. Only one person knew about what he did to those three fans, and he promised he wouldn't say a word about it since they were party crashers anyway. The guy thought they got what they deserved. He partially agreed on that point, but crazy fans who don't know boundaries do make good clothing items. Some might like being his possessions and some he was sure were probably hating their new life. Honestly, he ceases to care what they felt or even if they were liking their new existence the moment he turns them into objects. Once changed, they are treated as what they now look like. Every transformed article of clothing gets treated the same no matter what.

[transformers-spike]

hello it's Starscream feet anon again. So pleased to see your poll. Anyways.

I always fail to remember Airachnid because she frightens me. That tidbit alone probably gets her off like the freak she is.

Airachnid very much gives me mean and snarky dom vibes. But then again I could be wrong I don't know anything about this woman but she's freaky therefore I would confide in here because she's freaky.

Anyways². Here's the list I pulled out of you know where about different factions and iterations that are into feet of the human variety.

G1.

Decepticons: literally just Megatron. That freak. You will catch him oiling his humans feet and you will be jealous.

Autobots: Beachcomber. Hound. Bumblebee. Wheeljack.

Beachcomber and hound fall into the same category of stocking fetishism. Bumblebee enjoys the complete removal of all/any garments on the feet. Shoes, socks, anklets, you name in, bumblebee is pressurized and ready to get a closer look. And wheeljack likes toes SPECIFICALLY. Not ankles, soles or the top side or any combination. Toes. He's such a freak.

2007 animated.

Decepticons: BLITZWING!!!!! And Megatron.

Blitzwing you freak. And I'm not just talking about his "random" personality. Oh no. Icy, Hothead, and Random all have their own sub fetish. Icy would be more domineering. He'd pick the heels and stockings and no you don't get to complain. He doesn't care if they fit correctly either. You will suffer for his pleasure and you will keep your mouth shut. It's not like you'll be walking in those heels anyways. Hothead is an avid enjoyer of rubbing his spike all over his human. Including the feet. When he discovers foot jobs it's so over. He'll make his human lotion up and rub him up and down until he's done. Goes crazy seeing his human's feet covered in his trans fluid. Random. This fucking guy. He's just nasty. He's gonna lick your feet till you're crying his weird serpent tongue is so unpleasant. He also sniffs shoes.

Oh Megatron my beloved. There is a reason you will have a foot fetish in most iterations. TFA Megatron is such a bitch. He's simply too busy to indulge his human with interface. But you can hump his pede like the pathetic pet you are. Work yourself up while begging for him. but he will NEVER admit that it gives him gratification.

Autobots: bulkhead. Sentinel Prime.

Oh bulkhead my beloved². He's so sugar cube. He discovered foot fetishism through internet pornography. Enjoys the aesthetics of foot bondage done with ribbons and other delicate things. Bulkhead is, however, ashamed of this fetish due to reading human opinions on the topic online. Sad face :(

Ah sentinel Prime. This fucking guy. We all know this guy fucks humans, so why wouldn't he like feet too. Sucks feet and toes while cranking his spike. Also likes when his human paints their toes to match his paint job. Pays for all sorts of foot care. Pedicures, massages, ridiculous amounts of lotion. Buys expensive ass stockings for his human to wear under their clothes too.

Transformers prime.

Decepticons: STARSCREAM!!!!!! Soundwave. Shockwave. Knockout.

Oh Starscream my beloved³. I've already spoken on the topic of Starscream and his foot fetish, but he just enjoys massaging his human's feet. enjoys the aesthetics of heels as they mirror his own elevated heel struts. I could write an essay.

Soundwave is a bondage enjoyer all-around. Yes he uses his tentacles for bondaging his human this is a known fact. Will tickle the feet until his human is begging, crying and hyperventilating. He thinks it's so endearing how his little human jerks away from him.

Shockwave would dissect his human's feet if they didn't need them for quality of life. So many tiny, delicate bones.

Knock out likes to keep his human in tip top shape. Therefore he's keeping his human's feet pedicures and done up. Toe polish options include the specific shade of his paint job or nothing. Yes he makes the rules and yes he enforces them. Puts a teeny anklet on his human that has a Decepticon brand hanging from one of the chain links. Will kiss up his human's feet and legs when he massages them.

Transformers ONE.

I'm just gonna give the run down on Orian Pax, D16, and Sentinel Prime. Because I know we have Decepticons at the end of the film but I can't remember if the Autobots got named or not at the end of the film as well so this is. More like protagonists and antagonists.

Uncogged Orian and D16 probably didn't even know they had interface arrays so leaning into non genital based kinks does make sense. Given that they're miners, they can't afford luxuries such as polishes for themselves, so obtaining human lotion is out of the question. But they can wash their human. (Canon be damned they have water on Cybertron ok.) They'd massage their human and take care of them to the best of their ability with warm solvent and gentle servos.

While cogged, however, it makes sense to myself that they would have more genital based kinks since they are having so many new sensations that I'm sure they would love to share with their human.

Sentinel Prime.

Oh this fucker again. He got a human they was a toddler gets a puppy. For it to be taken care of by someone else. Like animated sentinel, he also buys his human lavish thing, like the aforementioned pedicures and lotion and toe polish and lotions but not so he can enjoy applying them. No. So that he can up keep his image as Iacon's precious prime. He loves the aesthetics of finely woven socks and stockings on his human, but that's it. Will accept a footjob if he's that curious. But this guy's foot fetishism is performative and not reflective of true foot freakness. Poser.

And if you noticed that I didn't mention the bayformers that's because I hate them. No piggies for them. They got weird faces. Except maybe knightverse bumblebee. He's a cutie.

Sorry this is so long I don't know what came over me it's like I blacked out and when I awoke this mess was on my screen. Feel free to add or take away as you see fit I'm all about hearing your thoughts on different transformers and their (foot) fetishes. For some reason.

Absolutely fascinated by this - I'm learning more and more about sections of this kink - and lmao I missed your presence, bro This is so well-described I don't think I have anything to add. At most I can say I had no idea fake feet enjoyers were a thing so I'm laughing thinking about TFO Sentinel Still think these bots probably prefer feet over pedes, mostly because they're so soft and we typically cover them, so they're not tracking dirt/grime. Also what do you mean you have lotions specifically for it????

[euniexenoblade]

I got harassed by velvetvexations once. The weirdest part was that as soon as she found my post (a minor gripe about terminology), I received a bunch of anon asks claiming to be from someone transmasc (and just blatantly lying about reality), so I turned off anon and blocked her and the asks just stopped. It could be one of her followers who’s too chickenshit to harass me off anon, but I honestly suspect she sent those asks either pretending to be a transmasc, or mask-off and giving up her transfem act.

So I want to start this with saying that we shouldn't be talking about her like this, this is what she wants, cuz with it she's going to be like, "Seeee Mordred's always talking about me!" Nevermind that she literally starts every mud slinging contest, she cherry picks shit to make herself look like a target when she's the one that goes on the prowl and harasses every transfem she can.

She loves the attention. She loves the fucking drama. She says otherwise cuz that's expected of her, but if you just ignore her existence long enough she hunts back through people's old posts scraping for any comment about her that she can make into a drama. She practically admitted this in summer of last year when she said she had to keep coming to my blog despite me blocking her cuz her npd made her need to know if I'm talking about her, all the while shit talking me.

So like, I want to be clear, I will just delete stuff about her. Yours just had a thing I wanted to reply to.

I don't think she's a sock puppet. In regards to the "transfem act" comment you made, I think she is transfem. I think she is a very sheltered trans woman who has lived a life away from community, which is why she can't recognize that she's supporting anti-trans behavior or that she's surrounded herself with terfs, truscum, and conservatives. Note, I'm not saying "sheltered" as in had it easy, but "sheltered" as in rhetoric she's gotten pumped into her head. There are always trans women who use outdated terms, who have outdated views, who aren't well read on theory of any kind, that's just kinda normal and it's fine. Velvet nowadays gives me that vibe of the older trans person with outdated views who's just been taken in by a truscum community. I used to think she was fake, but it's too pointless. The effort put into making her blog seem real while shooting all credibility into the negatives? It doesn't make sense to me, she's likely real and ignorant and won't assess that ignorance cuz she feels we were mean to her. And, like, whatever, it is not our duty to save her from herself. She can be the Blaire White of Tumblr and we can all ignore her.

I believe you were getting harassed by her, I believe you were getting harassing anons, but I doubt she'd pose as a transmasc just to fuck with you. In my experience, she is very proud to be the contrarian. "I'm a trans woman, I'm amab, i'm ''''tma'''' and I think misandry is real" she's always ready to spout that at you, as if it proves any point. She so desperately wants to be the arbiter of discourse, she wants to be seen as the good girl that saved the world from transandrophobia, I don't think she'd pose as transmasc. You can generally recognize her anons from the typing style. Although, @thicced-witch has had more direct conversation with her that way, so maybe she'd know if Velvet would sink that low.

It's honestly just a block her kind of thing. Block her, don't feed her the attention she craves. I get caught up in an obsession around not wanting to be lied about so I often feed her by replying to her lies about me. But like, genuinely, just block and ignore her.

[yuri-is-online]

Popping in with another Tokyo Debunker theory, so sorry you have to deal with me but I literally have nowhere else to go with this ;;;

This theory really is more of a shot in the dark on vibes alone but I just saw the Janitor in ch3 and idk if it's same face syndrome but I felt he looked strangely similar to Dante? I don't know if it's just me, but anyways, for some reason I feel like he's the Ed that Rui keeps talking about (accidentally killing) and was wondering what if he's the one Alan killed and not Dante? Maybe Alan mistook him in the heat of the moment, could explain why he wasn't dead since Rui's dialogue implies they're able to bring him back to life somehow. There really isn't enough info on this but couldn't help but think about it.

Also how is Haru such a mom to the anomalous creatures and yet so shady at the same time (casually putting trackers on Ren? Picking locks? Hello??) and seeing that I have to agree I do think he might've transferred from Sinostra, it'd be a way to connect Jabberwock to the next arc possibly too

My dearest friend, I am not "putting up with you" I am receiving your lovely thoughts and adding some of my own. You can come here and chat, we can keep filling up the Tokyo Debunker tag together. I do apologize to my twsties though, I promise I am not abandoning you.

Rui seems fully convinced that his curse will kill anyone who touches him, especially MC but he is much more casual about how he talks about "Ed" to the point I am almost curious if he is talking about a person or a dog. I lean towards person because he complains about him leaving his socks everywhere and not him constantly stealing his, but him being the janitor is a good guess. Now as for Alan having mistaken him for Dante:

While they do look similar to me personally it is closer to the similarity between Hyde and Sho than it is them being identical:

Who are of course related, so it could just be that Dante and the Janitor are also related. It would add to the friendship between Dante and Hyde if they both have brothers enrolled in the school, Hyde really seems proud of Sho and clearly has bragged to Dante a lot. It would be funny if he does that because Dante is in the same boat. What I personally think is that, based off of the Janitor's hair color and cut, he is likely the dorm captain of Obscuary as pictured here in the loading screen:

The dorm leader has lighter tips to his hair just like the janitor and is familiar/comfortable enough to talk casually with Haru who is another dorm captain. If that's true then I do not think Alan, who would be very familiar with Ed, would have mistaken him for Dante. We also need to consider that Dante is in a wheelchair, I don't think someone who tries as hard to be respectful and accommodating as Alan would mix up someone who can walk and someone who is in a wheelchair, unless that is something new for Dante this year and he was able to function without it last year σ(￣、￣=)

When Haru declared lock picking as one of his special talents I almost died laughing he is SO SKETCHY. He is also trying to run a business, something that Sinostra also does and since Hyde is the advisor for both dorms I think transferring between them would be relatively easier than say, transferring from Hotarubi or Frostheim. Come to think of it both cases of transfers we have seen so far have been (potentially anyway, we don't have confirmation about Haru yet) between dorms who have the same advisor. Something that could explain why it seems easier in Tokyo Debunker than in Twisted Wonderland.

Oh back to Ed/the Janitor for a moment. Obscuary seems to be themed around death, and seems to run a bar that might be themed around vampires? Or just super goth in general. Either way I think his ability to come back to life might have something to do with his stigma and the way it interacts with Rui's curse, but we don't know enough about him to make a specific call just yet. I'll keep my eye out for more information and you are more than free to come here and talk about more of your theories, my anon friend.

[bearratic]

Get to know the mun ! repost, don’t reblog.

——— BASICS.

NICK[NAME] : Benjamin. [Benji/Bear.]

PRONOUNS : He/Him.

ZODIAC SIGN : Aquarius - Feb 7th.

TAKEN OR SINGLE : Single.

ANYTHING ELSE? : Real fuckn dutch. Made of stroopwafels.

——— THREE SERIOUS FACTS.

Writing gives me the time and space to gather my thoughts. I use it as a practice in conveying emotion, which makes it easier to do so and thoroughly explain reasoning. I use writing as a base for learning human psyche, soul, mind and spirit which interests me deeply. I try digging deeper into feelings and actions - reasons why some are done and linking them together.

I pick muses based on some hint of personality trait I see of myself in them. I find myself often asking what I want so having muses that at least correlate to my thoughts are a better fit for me than just a choice at random. It can be big as the way they think or it can be as small as sharing a favorite drink. Exploring their interests based on their world and adding on to it makes it way more enjoyable for me to write, story and world building is important to me.

I fucking love everyone I have ever written and will ever write with. This has been nothing but a warm and loving experience for me.

——— THREE RANDOM FACTS.

My nickname is thanks to my father, who even though he named me one thing, found it often too long and switched it to another lol.

I go to at least 3 concerts every month. Mostly rock in genre if I get to chose but I never say no when friends ask. I will always be your +1 to any event.

If I had to pick a country to move to it would be Scotland, sorry but I have a light obsession with that place.

——— EXPERIENCE.

Zero dude. Literally none. I just picked it up as a hobby and passed my blogs one year birthday last august. I have been truly active in the writing community for only half a year in total.

I go with the flow, I enjoy coming up with things on the spot. Diseccting my muses and throwing them into any type of situation just to write myself out of it. Or-... make it worse for them. Keep it interesting you know?

I write through and together with music, I let it guide me often. This is kind of the reason I am a slow replier, I have to really feel what I want to put down and then I can stick to it. Besides that, English is not my first language so I have to switch back and forth in my brain real often. It can be a bit tiring but I gladly do it for my writing partners. Much love.

——— MUSE PREFERENCE.

Give me anything with a background we can explore and me and my muses are in. I thoroughly enjoy talking to you about your muses and mine, from their favorite pairs of socks to their family drama, idc I want to know.

I need a lot of building together, plotting and anything to truly write my muse closer to yours if you want anything deeper. I build through writing together. From something silly to movie scripts. Let them get to know each other to their deepest point.

——— FLUFF / ANGST / SMUT.

FLUFF : Yeah definitely, I’m a sappy dude. I like to daydream.

ANGST : Also yeah! I enjoy making problems for my muses, it makes me understand them more. Dread is and can be intense so be sure to be in the right headspace and let me know.

SMUT : Sure, though with my lack of writing experience bear with me on this one. I really have to know how you write and your muse for this to work, I do not wish to overstep boundaries either yours, your muses or my own. Which I am unable to know if we do not at least have a talk about it.

——— PLOT / MEMES : Thanks to you I know how much I enjoy plotting. I know I'm rather slow with DM replies but please don't take it personally I am just truly busy and can only do one thing atta time. Memes! Starters! Send me them all day everyday, I might not get to them immediately but I will and I will love it.

TAGGED BY : @sanctissimx I adore. Thank Yououou.

TAGGING : Cool ppl but no pressure. @cherriedrage @penandswords @patronsxints @carminewill @heterochromatica @ofcursedenergy @modeinthemiddle @huntershowl & You.

[ghostofasecretary]

feelings sorting

how am i feeling? stressed. numb. overwhelmed. bad.

how does my body feel? floaty, cold, stiff. the floating started *after* i took my emergency anxiety meds, which is. annoying.

ok. put on socks and a jacket; that might start to help.

i haven't watered my plants in three weeks. been longer since i vacuumed, also.

haven't sent an email i need to send or a texted someone back.

i am so, so--i feel like i've just failed and failed and failed, and not just in a general "not getting what i wanted at the times i wanted it" way but in a daily "i haven't been eating food or giving myself tea or keeping my promises to myself that i would *do things to make my life better*" way.

ok. watered the plants.

i keep thinking "i want to give up" and i don't know what i mean by that. what do you mean, you want to give up? i mean i'm tired of picking myself up off the ground over and over again at both literal and metaphorical expense to fling myself at things that don't love me back. i mean i want to go to grad school but i DON'T want to tell my recommenders "haha yeah i got into [extremely prestigious institution] but didn't go because i'm too poor to afford it and too unimpressive to win the lottery that still calls itself merit-based." i mean i don't understand why i'm so tired all the time, and why doing the things i love scares me, and why studying is so hard, and why applying myself is so hard, and i keep sitting still for hours and hours and days and days and my whole WEEK went by and i hardly NOTICED because each day was the same. more or less. somehow.

Thursday feels like it didn't happen.

i don't want to skip poetry this week but i didn't prepare a single thing i was meant to and there's no point to it if i haven't prepared because i don't have the vocab i need to do this shit casually and anyways i'm past the point of doing stuff casually, i'm better at this than i used to be, i'm meant to be better

i'm so tired of myself.

backing out is easy, right? it's meant to be easy? "Hey, So sorry but I didn't make time for this thing that makes my life feel worthwhile this week, this passion project I've spent years on, the thing I feel like actually makes me interesting and knowledgeable enough to justify being a dumbass in other areas"--wow, it's nice to speak freely

i can tell i'm being crazy. i don't care. not saying it will only make me more crazy and less productive/capable of getting what i want/trapped in a cycle of Avoidance for things that Feel Bad.

my jaw's tense, my mouth's burnt, my throat is dry. drink some water. write an email.

i have, in fact, been pretty damn diligent about pursuing my goals for years. let's just--fucking--a bad month does not ruin you. a bad day does not ruin you. it's embarassing not to be prepared! it feels bad! i don't like it! nevertheless if i had the resources to be prepared i would be, and as i am not it is fair to assume i lack the resources, and my priority should be *getting* said resources so i don't *explode and die.* as it were.

placing this much weight upon my academics, on *not looking stupid,* is also very embarassing, but to be cringe is to be human and i'm stuck with myself.

listen. babe. do you think you can do poetry today? no. okay. that's fine. go communicate that like an adult.

(if i'd been that diligent wouldn't it have worked? if i'd been that diligent wouldn't i fucking have my goddamn life in order right now? ...does everyone you know who's worked hard have their just desserts for it, babe? does ANYONE? ask any of your mentors who are winning and they'll tell you it's at least half luck. privilege matters, your work matters, your character matters, and also sometimes people luck out and sometimes they don't.)

god this is excruciating.

EMAIL SENT.

i'm gonna resume this in a bit, i think, but i don't want to lost this so i'm gonna post it

ok. back at it. person texted.

i think the anxiety meds were a good call. talking to myself in public was also a good call. i wish i'd done this earlier but there's many things i might wish different and so instead i'll just be glad to be alive and moving.

i need to eat. and i need to start my grad school apps and email my recommenders politely, with respect and decency, without tearing myself down. firstly because tearing yourself down in front of others puts them in an uncomfortable position, and secondly because if you don't speak of yourself with respect you are doing an unkindness unto yourself.

oh, and i got an email about Job Onboarding. yay. (i have a job now btw, Go Me. that's not nothing. that was a significant source of stress for months and tackling it took a week, two on the outside, and soon i'll be making money and socializing more which is good for the monkey brain and improving my baseline levels of stress.)

plan:

- go to the bathroom oh my god

- eat + do dishes

- ~~account set-up~~

- schedule other job stuff

- vacuum the second half of the room

- grad school list; make/re-activate accounts; make spreadsheet of required docs and list of people to email

- make + eat dinner

- i would LIKE to a) catch up on my cards, b) Knit, and c) listen to my audiobook. and i'd like to do these things on purpose for fun. go me. let's try. if you don't get through all of Grad School List that's okay but PLEASE start in on it

(previously in q: what's up with mystery package from hell (figure out commute during lunch, change list if needed) (actually i do not care) (sent email, no response))

head hurty. back and body aches. how about i make some tea before i finish vacuuming.

update: i did not finish tea before vacuuming. i did not even start tea. things are Off The Floor which is good, but On My Bed which is less good. need to put the vacuum up also. blargh.

mystery mail situation is resolved thanks to the power of emails! huzzah.

3 hours 40 minutes after taking my anxiety meds i feel, uh, A Big Headache. tired in a drained way. i have a few things on my list left (*start* grad school shenanigizing, put up vacuum, make tea, make food (is banana bread + yogurt + fruit + seeds an adequate dinner, who knows not me. probably not given what else i've eaten lately. hush), eat food, Do Relaxation). i feel i have been more effective than i have been at improving my circumstances. i've been meaning to vacuum for actual weeks, and i managed to reorganize my bookshelf and put up some new books that have been languishing on the floor for two weeks in the process. i went through some very annoying job stuff that furthers my goal of making, like, Any Money At All this month! cancelling poetry today was fine actually. all my conversations with people were positive. i am kind of pleased with myself.

i think i may try some grad school bullshit now and THEN do upstairs taskz and then have a chill evening. maybe i will even vidya game, who knows. okay? okay!

evening update: i love approaching baking like it's cooking. instead of using a real recipe i used my two old bananas + 2 remaining carrots + bread like ingredients in quantities approximately similar in ratio and measure both to about three other recipes. it'll be a bit before i know how it tastes as it needs to cool but i'm quite pleased by the appearance, at least!

[quicksilverarchive]

Never get high on your own supply

(1193 words) 15 year old Malani getting arested. He did not go quietly

❗️Warning: foul language. Very foul language. And a mention of drugs.

Back to masterpost

“Never get high on your own supply” is great advice, apparently. Malani would argue otherwise.

It's evening, the sun has barely set, and he's walking down a mostly empty, mostly ruined street, hauling a backpack on one shoulder. His hoodie is pulled up to cover his head, his shoes are wet and full of mud and the water in the puddles inside the sidewalk cracks have seeped into his socks. Still, Malani feels great. Molly is known to do that.

Never get high on your own supply is some bullshit.

To be fair, it ain't really his supply. It's the gang's, or rather his uncle's, and he really couldn't care less about the “lost profit” of sneaking some pills. He doubts the sleezy dealers he's running them to are careful enough to notice, they all got their brains fucked by drugs, booze and concussions anyway.

He has a bit to walk still till the dropoff spot, and he's getting kinda bored of walking. He sees a patrol car parked on the other side of the street, the headlights are on, two and cops sitting inside. Should he just start trouble for the sake of it? It would be real entertaining, stupid but entertaining. He sticks his tongue out at the car, they probably don't even see him, he snickers to himself and picks up the pace, skipping down the sidewalk. The alarm of the cop car goes off for a second behind him, he doesn't turn to look, pulling his hood more to hide his smile. The car door clicks as it opens, and a cop yells after him.

“Kid, hey, stop for a second,” he says, and Malani rushes his step even more. “Stop, police!” he yells, and Malani giggles to himself as he starts sprinting. The pigs don't know these streets like he does, it's his turf, his home advantage, so they can run after him as much as they want! He turns for a second to flip them off, laughing, but they're closer than he thought, and he trips on his feet and promptly falls on his ass.

He falls in a puddle, splashing water everywhere, his backpack files off his shoulder, further on the sidewalk. The two cops - a man and a woman - stop abruptly, splashing more water at him. He looks at his hands, his knuckles and fingers are scraped, and bloodied, full with muddy water, but he can't even feel it. The cop grabs his arm and pulls him up, keeping a firm grasp of it. His partner walks around them.

“Why were you running, kid?” he asks

“I dunno… Why were you chasing me?” Malani replies with a cocky smile.

“What's your name? How old are you?”

“Like I'd tell you!” Malani tries to pull away, but the grip around his arm is sturdy.

“What's in this?” the other cop asks, holding up the backpack. Malani turns his head to look at her and laughs.

“Are you stupid? It's literally in your hands, fucking open it if you wanna know.”

“Drop the attitude,” she warms, unzipping the bag.

“Drop the name of your plastic surgeon, cuz he should be fired,” Malani bites back, and the cop holding him tightens his grip.

“What are these?” she asks, holding up some pills.

“I’m not telling you shit, pig.”

“Yeah, you're coming with us,” her partner says, and a muted tinge of panic starts to settle deep within Malani's gut. He keeps the smile planted on his face, be it a little more strained now.

“What were you gonna do with these?” the policewoman asks, stepping closer and waving the pills in front of him. “Did you take any?”

Malani spits in her face.

She yelps, tripping back a little, dropping the pills in the water and whipping it with her sleeve. Malani laughs quietly.

“You are under arrest.” The man turns him around forcefully, and Malani tries to kick behind him, grunting. “Stop resisting, kid, I don't want to hurt you.”

“Suck my big fat dick you dirty bitch-fucking cocksucker,” Malani spits, struggling to escape the hold. His knees get kicked from under him and he falls back into the puddle. The woman joins to try to keep him steady, he turns his head and seizes the opportunity to bite her hand. She screams, he sinks his teeth deeper, the cop behind him grabs his hair and yanks him off of her, ramming his face into the puddle.

He inhales a little water and starts coughing. His lungs are burning. His eyes are burning. Everything hurts.

They only let him get up once he's handcuffed. His legs are unsteady, his face is scraped and he can't open his left eye, he's spitting up blood and mud as he coughs and his clothes are soaked, but he still smiles defiantly. They pull him to the car, shoving him inside as he almost trips on his own legs, and when they shut the door behind them, in the brief window of time before they get in the car themselves, it dawns on Malani that, holy shit, he's getting arrested.

It's fine. His uncle will take care of this! He has to, he's the one who stuck him with this damned job!

The cops both open the doors and step inside the front seats, and for a couple of seconds, Malani can't find his voice anymore. The silence feels like a defeat, like humiliation, he bites his tongue. He's quiet as the engine starts and as the car starts moving and as the cops exchange some phrases he can barely bother to pay attention to. The scrapes on his skin are starting to feel like they're burning, he's stiff all over, and suddenly he feels awfully cold.

“That sort of behavior-” the cop lady catches his attention turning to him, and he tunes back in to what she's saying - “will great you in great trouble, young man. It won't help your sentencing, so-”

If there's anything that will get Malani pissed off enough to override the wave of fear, its this self righteous, bullshit monologuing.

“Get rammed in the ass, you unfucked bitch,” he snarls at her. He feels very shaky.

“If you don't drop this attitude, you might get exactly that in juvie,” the man snaps back at him, and it only fuels him further.

“Oh, what a bold imagination, old man! Bet you'd love to see that, you pervert.”

“Don't stoop down to his level.” The woman shakes her head at the other cop. “He'll get what's coming to him.”

Malani doesn't say anything back this time. It feels like a sort of draw, and he won't risk going further with it and loosing the crumb of power he's managed to obtain in the interaction. While the idea of going to juvie isn't too fun, groveling at the fucking cops' feet and begging for forgiveness or leniency disgusts him. So for now, he'll sit quiet, handcuffed, high, with his bloody fingers and knuckles, scraped face, one eye closed shut, clothes soaked to the skin and nearly clattering teeth, and hope his uncle will get him out of this mess.

[bamboobrat]

succession s4 e5 recap: swedish elon and his logan roy tribute band

time is a flat circle and we are back to ken hyping himself listening to rap, driving to the office.

anyone feeling nostalgic yet?

he is immediately caught off guard by the fact that roman and shiv are already there.

also he seems like the worst boss ever.

i really don't like ken when he is not hitting rock bottom.

(there is a movie about a sleeping robot in a cave that takes up too much time in this episode. let's not get into all that)

the old guard checks up on the CE-bros before their trip to norway.

matchy matchy&lt;3

turns out mattson wants them all there (why wouldn't he?) so THE GANG IS GOING TO NORWAY! lets bleed the swede!*

*as a norwegian, i approve this message

mortality has set into team krank, as they put on compression socks before the flight.

krank is not here to have fun. krank has no young mistress to impress. krank is serious.

shiv has noticed ken's leaks to the media from last week because she is boss. it's the comeback we've been waiting for.

but most importantly, she is waging a very important war against tom and his stupid new sneakers:

the sibs say they can kill tom for her. that's brotherly love.

hugo is not having a good time.

i am tho.

gerri rallies the troops by shitting on europeans.

yes mommy tell me i'm weak because i have free healthcare! sit on my face

gerri for CEO. always.

they accurately depict what it is like driving in norway:

(this is why i don't have my licence)

the gang arrives in the motherland and it's beautiful, but rainy (so authentic) and are all like WHY THESE WOOD CABINS SO SMALL?!

ironic because jeremy lives in fucking denmark.

anyway, whatever this is:

I DO NOT APPROVE!

the trip up to mount olympus is interrupted by con saying he can send a picture of their dead dad to the group chat.

nobody wants to see it.

also, marcia is putting logan in a kilt like the fucking bay city rollers and con had to cancel a room full of working class whites in cleveland. the sacrifice.

they give con carte blanche for the whole funeral thing, which is probably a terrible decision.

the funeral is going to be one big campaign rally, i'm serious.

the others have to settle for a nice lil scandi brunch spread. what a hard life.

i don't say this often, but i would be hugo in this scenario, piling onto my plate like it's nobody's business.

karolina has a cute lesbian moment.

she says something in swedish at some point, but let me tell you, i understand swedish and i didn't even pick up on it. no shade to dag, but lol.

hugo doesn't understand how ski jumping works.

i thank the writers for putting this joke in there, even if literally no one other than random scandi people will get it.

it's like the opposite of danny boyle's the beach<3 give back to the community<3

roman enters negotiations and puts his fingers in the caviar.

you think i didn't notice? after all this time, you must know i notice everything.

the CE-bros make the village elders proud, as mattson offers 187 per share as long as he gets ATN.

also, gerri does a second take looking back at roman. these are the crumbs i am destined to live on, i guess. roman doesn't want to give up ATN tho, probably because 1) his dad wanted ATN 2) his dad told him he wouldn't make it at pierce and belongs at ATN 3) he is, somehow, the most rational of the siblings right now????

speaking of rational: how are we feeling about the shiv/mattson potential here? i honestly have zero objections.

shiv is like fuck yeah, sell ATN, that shit is toxic.

agreed, but who gave mencken an open line to ATN-meetings? sounds like something logan told cyd to do during one of those late night calls.

"even dad had a line" rings true zero percent. pass.

get rid of atn. word is, they don't even have tucker carlson anymore? just keep a sweater, much less racist.

we get some important leo dicap representation:

and greg is the bringer of all that is exposition, telling us there is a kill list with 8 to 9 names, ever evolving.

now, as most readers of these recaps would know, i would like to avoid spending any time on greg whatsoever (made even more poignant by the recent rumors about nick), however, this must be one of the best exchanges of dialogue ever made:

greg: da fam shiv: da fuck

that's all.

tom tells the swedes that americans don't care about the rest of the world and it's funny because it's true.

and alex being like "you're ALL related?!"

i see you, succession writers, i see you.

mattson calls waystar a parts shop and has a good take on right wing media:

"i dont think news for angry, old men works"

instead, he opts for bloomberg grey: simple, cheap, huge, ikea'd to fuck. i do love ikea.

he calls the sibs a tribute band which is harsh. even for a scandi, it's fucking harsh.

anyway, SAUNA! SAUNA! SAUNA!

GERRI. IN. SAUNA! (chant with me)

i will never forget what the succession writers took from me.

krank out here just chilling.

i've never shipped anyone more.

we are introduced to ebba. i can tell i'd have more to say on this in any other situation, but it just feels weird (all norwegian know each other, i guess).

anyone else here for the shiv/mattson dynamic?

i'm sorry, i kind of ship it????

ken wants to tank the deal and roman immediately calls him out on his destructive bullshit:

and then immediately caves.

"i think we are good at running the ship" they say after doing it for approximately 24 hours.

i wish i had their confidence.

also, pinky can't dance, according to ken, so they keep shiv out. meanwhile, she gets cozy with lukas, who asks her about her marriage (bad) and tells her he sends liters of blood to ebba (also bad).

shiv shows us why she is paid the big bucks for political advice:

we don't see the end of their night, so i'm just going to assume they fucked. because she's worth it.

also, talking up gerri and karolina? girlies stick together<3

big bi vibes here. huge. idc if she's pregnant and drinking.

meanwhile, the CE-bros use greg to leak that the negotiations are souring. why would you trust greg with anything?

in an attempt to fuck the deal, the CE-bros show a terrible film to the swedish team, as if being scandi doesn't mean you've sat through enough terrible cinema already....

we get the strangest fight in tv history:

lol @ us for thinking this was an important moment for the two of them and then it's a fight about white sneakers and fat earlobes.

i sure hope shiv fucked lukas.

roman receives a photo of his dead dad and it doesn't really put him in the right place to negotiate with mattson:

ouch.

leave it to kieran to make an emmy-worthy speech across from alex skarsgaard peeing.

the plan was: tank the deal, but in a subtle way. what they did: try and tank the deal, but in a not very subtle way. did the deal tank: no.

i hope you understand.

the question is, if a deal collapses in the woods and no one hears it, is it a SEC violation?

mattson ends up offering 192 per share. karl jizzes his pants.

shiv gives the little spelunker tom a lil treat, telling him to fire cyd.

then she asks him out?

and ignores him again because she is taking a call from mattson?

idk my dudes, but i'm into this shiv comeback.

mattson seems happy and flirty and i sure as shit hope this goes somewhere.

as long as it doesn't involve liters of frozen blood.

i have a feeling it will be all good vibes until he learns about her pregnancy. there's always something rotten in the state of denmark (or norway, or sweden, but it's all the same).

the waystar-team receives the kill list after the offer and it's very stressful for a few people who made themselves suffer through a session in the sauna:

not on the kill list: karolina gerri tom because shiv fucking did the thing!!

oh, and karl and frank are on the kill list, but i think they are just fine.

maybe the real treasure was the compression socks we made along the way.

[llatimeria]

why are upstairs neighbors the way they are. i know this is long but can somebody please . please read this and give me a reality check

the last few people who rented the apartment above us were annoying too but it pales in comparison to whoever lives there now. Every single fucking day, usually in the evenings or late afternoons, they do ... Something. it could be sex or some kind of exercise or any other number of things. It's just a lot of THUD THUD THUD THUD THUDs on and off for half an hour to an hour and a half. Today it started at 8pm and lasted til 9 but the last time I made a note of the time it happened around 3pm as I was trying to do homework.

It feels like the whole ceiling shakes. I swear sometimes it fucks with the air pressure in my ears, which is really hard to notice until it's driving me insane, like a grain of sand in my sock. It's started to stress out our dog, which just makes her start barking (and she's clearly barking at the ceiling), but her barking is in itself overstimulating, which stresses us out more, which she picks up on, which just makes her bark more because she's baby and doesn't like it when her dads are anxious.

The thudding alone can be enough to overstimulate us, but combined with the barking and coincidental other neighbor noises that don't usually bother us, it's... Extremely draining. We're both neurodivergent people with PTSD. Loud, unpredictable noises don't really mix well with us. On more than one occasion my partner's had full blown anxiety attacks bc of the combination of sudden loud noises (a known trigger for them) and the overstimulation (another known trigger for them). We like. Actively can't keep living like this. lmao. I cannot stress enough how it is every day and never quite at the exact same time so we can emotionally prepare for it, and it's not like we should have to prepare to exist in our own living room anyways.

Anyways I just need to purge all of my anxieties and get a reality check about this. Help

We could just be stupid and unreasonable and should just grow up and get over it, and will be fully confronted with that if we do anything.

We might just open ourselves up to harassment (or becoming the butt of a lot of jokes) because we're the whiny neighbors who have nothing better to do than complain

Even if we are being reasonable, it doesn't really make a difference, because if our neighbors think that we're not, they could harass us anyways

They could make a noise complaint about our dog out of spite ("why are you mad at Them when it's Your dog that barks")

Maybe we're also extremely annoying neighbors and we'll look like huge assholes/idiots if we complain about anyone else (implausible, but again. Small dog)

What if we try to contact them and they interpret it as an attack on them. We think one of the people living above us is a very large, heavyset man we've seen around the apartment complex, and we don't want to put our feet in our mouths if he's literally just vibing (or worse, excercising to lose weight) and we just totally humiliate him by telling him his mere footsteps are overstimulating down here. I don't want anyone to feel BAD. (And we're also not totally sure the guy we've seen is actually the guy above us, we just know they showed up around the same time)

We did actually try bonking the ceiling with a broom a few days ago and they obviously heard it because they stopped for a second, laughed, and started doing whatever it is more loudly, but what if that was entirely a coincidence and they didn't notice at all

What if they interpret any message we send as a passive-aggressive attack rather than just trying to let them know how loud they're being

And what if we do actually come across as passive-aggressive towards people who aren't us and we just make everything worse by bungling our communication attempts. It wouldn't be on purpose, but again it doesn't matter because some people interpret everything as an attack regardless

They could generally just fuck with our lives and make us miserable forever with no recourse if we fuck this up, too. like. We LIVE right BENEATH them. They know where we live and probably the layout of our apartment, since it's probably identical to theirs. They could probably figure out which car is ours. They could report our dog barking, or just come up with any number of fake/minor complaints. They could stalk us, vandalize our shit, intentionally make more noise or make louder noises and intentionally try to overwhelm/trigger us, or any number of things. Even if they got in trouble for it, that doesn't really matter because I just don't want it to happen in the first place.

And, worse, what if we try to get them punished, but it turns out we really were the aggressors the entire time according to anyone normal, and we just get our entire lives deservedly wrecked instead

i don't know what to dooooo